


Useless Lesbians

by ProspertheXVIII



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Prompt Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProspertheXVIII/pseuds/ProspertheXVIII
Summary: Flat-pack furniture is difficult. Courtney goes out of her way to be unhelpful.Tumblr prompt series 3/?: 90. “I’m not buying Ikea furniture again.”





	Useless Lesbians

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this drabble challenge: http://rosetlntstheworld.tumblr.com/post/170157290911/drabble-challenge
> 
> Message me a number and pairing and I'll get writing :D

“Whoever decided that flat-pack furniture had to be a thing needs to fuck off and die immediately.” Bianca muttered through a gritted grimace, cross-legged on the floor of the tiny living room, using one elbow to try and hold the instructions open whilst she wrestled to open what seemed to be the nine hundredth bag of identical fucking screws with her teeth.  
  
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Courtney quipped as she walked into the room, a glass of wine in each hand. She flopped down on the couch, handing one glass to Bianca and sitting down with her legs daintily folded under her in her pink floral pyjamas, hair lazily ponytailed at the back of her head and not a stitch of makeup on her face.   
“You know, you could make yourself useful and try to be in some way helpful.”   
“Sounds boring,” Courtney shrugged, stealing the instruction booklet from Bianca and flicking through it. “I think you’re being a drama queen - this doesn’t seem that hard.”  
“You can talk when you’ve tried it - you haven’t lifted a damn finger all night!”  
“Have so! I didn’t exactly open the cava like Matilda, did I?”   
“I mean to help me with this, you fucking ditz.” Bianca grumbled, tipping the screws out into a pile on the coffee table and trying to organise them into some semblance of order, though that was difficult when they were all more or less utterly fucking identical.   
“I’m reading the instructions! That’s helping!” Courtney skimmed through the booklet, raising an eyebrow or humming every so often as though to indicate she was taking some of it in. “Kallax- sounds like something from Star Wars.”  
“It makes more sense when I hear you say it aloud - I’d been reading it like ‘kleenex’.”   
“That doesn’t even make sense - Bianca, are you sure you’re not like, episodically dyslexic or something?”  
“It comes with age, now get off your ass and help me out here.”   
  
Courtney humphed a sigh, putting her glass down on the coffee table and flopping cross-legged on the floor next to Bianca. What was supposed to be their new bookshelf was sitting on the floor in about eighteen different flat, black, totally identical pieces. Bianca’s hair was lazily tied back from her face in a sloppy bun; her glasses resting on the end of her nose - still wearing the same black t-shirt and patterned harem pants she’d had on to go out, only sans bra.   
“Okay, so what have you actually achieved with this so far?”  
“Not very much.” Bianca shrugged, looking at the mess in front of them. “Fucking kill me, Court. **I’m not buying Ikea furniture again**.”  
“We only had to fucking buy this thing because I’m sick of your eighteen million books taking up half of our room, so surely building it should be your responsibility.”  
“It’s not my fault I like reading.”  
“Don’t lie to yourself, B - they’re all coffee table books and celebrity autobiographies, we both know you’re basically illiterate.”   
“Shut the fuck up, you wretched little cumbiscuit.”  
“If it was all Shakespeare and Austen I’d maybe be more on side with you, but it’s 80% bullshit.”   
“I think I’ve got the script for _Cabaret_ in there somewhere - that’s like modern-day Shakespeare.”  
“Nice try, buttercup.” Courtney shook her head, giving her a smirking, tight-lipped smile, Bianca sighing and pulling a face like a pouting toddler. “Besides, you’ve not even tried to put it together - you’re just sitting looking at it.”  
“I’m taking my time, okay?”   
“You’re procrastinating is what you’re doing, pussy-face. Come on - construction time.” 

* * *

  
“Okay, that doesn’t look right.”  
“You don’t say.” Bianca looked at Courtney incredulously, one eyebrow raised. The blonde pulled her head into her neck, shrugging her shoulders and grimacing awkwardly.   
“Hey, we tried.”  
“It looks like a fucking avant garde slide.” Bianca hadn’t actually been aware of what a spirit level was until Courtney had informed her three hours ago, but she knew that she didn’t need one to tell that this thing was beyond slanted. “That’s not gonna hold shit - how did we fuck it up that badly?”   
“Fuck it, it’ll do. I want to go to sleep.” Courtney slumped onto the ground, pouting and fake-sobbing with her legs akimbo and head in her hands. “This feels like fucking purgatory.”  
“I’ve already said it but it bears repeating - never fucking buying Ikea furniture again.” Bianca huffed a sigh, flopping down by Courtney’s side and taking another drink of her wine (third glass now, the first two having gone down to prevent her from throwing parts of the blessed thing out of the window in her sheer frustration.)   
“And the vegan meatballs weren’t even fucking worth it.” Courtney curled her lip, resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder.   
“I don’t get it - we’re lesbians, we’re meant to be good at this shit.” She gave a hollow, defeated laugh that melted into a groan. “God, what time is it?”   
“Like two in the morning? I dunno.” Bianca put her face in her hands, groaning.   
“Is ‘I’m too tired because I stayed up all night trying to put a shelf together’ a justified reason to call in sick?”  
“No, no it isn’t. How else are you gonna pay the dogs through college?”  
“You’re right.” Bianca groaned. “Look at us - we’ve failed as sapphic women. Can’t even build a fucking flatpack bookcase.”

“I think that the DIY thing is more of a butch stereotype, B - I wouldn’t worry, your lesbo membership isn’t gonna get revoked.” She laughed, Bianca standing up, her eyes dropping half-shut and face clearly exhausted - Courtney following, almost tripping over her own feet.   
“Fuck this shit, I’m going to bed.” Bianca grumbled, lip curled.   
“Here, here - I guess I will just live out the rest of my days in a disorganised quagmire of Vogue anthologies and Sharon Osbourne memoirs after all.”


End file.
